Moments in Time
by gammadolphin
Summary: Oneshot series of missing scenes from my destiel story, Lost in Time. Open to requests.
1. Toy Soldiers

_**A/N: **Hello, and welcome to my new oneshot series for my story **Lost in Time**. If you have not read that, I would recommend that you do so, as these oneshots will be more meaningful for you. Besides, I think it's a pretty good story. Anyway, this story will consist of oneshots from Castiel's time in the past, and is open to request. There will be more details about that in the author's note at the end. Enjoy!_

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Shockingly, I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters._

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**Toy Soldiers**

The next time Castiel landed, the sun was high in the sky and the temperature was mild. The angel looked around curiously, taking in the neat streets of a small town. He did not understand what he was doing there, as Dean was nowhere to be seen. But then he heard the familiar rumble of that old impala again, and he turned to see the black car pull up in front of one of the buildings. The driver was not the one that Castiel was accustomed to seeing, but it only took a moment to recognize John Winchester.

The young man got out of the car, and Castiel's face broke into a smile as he caught sight of who was in the passenger seat. He started walking towards Mary, but then stopped himself, knowing that she would not be pleased if he approached her while her husband was present.

John himself was currently bent over, extracting something from the backseat. That something turned out to be a squirming Dean, evidently not pleased with where his father was taking him. Castiel watched in concern as John carried his son towards the nearest building, but relaxed when he saw the sign on the door that labeled it as a daycare facility.

"He hates it when we leave him here."

Castiel whipped his head around, startled, but he relaxed when he saw Mary standing next to him, a bright smile on her face. He sighed. He really needed to work on being aware of his surroundings. He was not used to having senses this dull. He did not realize just how dull those senses were until he looked down.

"Sam," he said in surprise.

Mary laughed, rubbing a hand over her extremely swollen abdomen.

"So his name _is_ Sam," she said triumphantly. "I knew I would win this one."

"John wants to call him something else?" Castiel surmised curiously.

"He wants to call him Michael," Mary told him. "He just likes the name. But I want to name the baby after my dad."

"Sam suits him far better," Castiel said firmly.

"I agree," the young woman said, her eyes twinkling. Then her brow wrinkled. "Although I guess you would know that better than me, wouldn't you? You know him as an adult."

"Yes, and he is nothing like Michael."

Mary raised an eyebrow, but seemed to decide not to ask. Castiel deemed it an appropriate time to change the subject.

"If Dean hates daycare so much, why bring him here?" he asked. Mary sighed.

"We try not to," she told the angel. "And it's not so much that he hates being here, he just hates not being with us. Especially now that the b- that _Sam_ is on the way. Dean loves his brother already. He spends hours just talking to him, because he doesn't want the baby to get bored."

Castiel smiled, utterly unsurprised to hear that Dean was already so attached to his brother.

"He will be an excellent older brother," he said.

"I'm glad to hear it," Mary said with a tender smile. "Although I never expected anything less from Dean. I can already tell that he's going to be special."

_You have no idea,_ Castiel thought.

"But still, we couldn't take him with us to the hospital today, so he's being subjected to the dreaded daycare."

"Hospital?" Castiel repeated in concern, examining her more closely for a sign that something was wrong.

"It's just a check-up, Cas," Mary assured him quickly. "We just want to make sure that the baby and I are healthy."

"Oh." Castiel relaxed again. "Well then I can assure you that both you and Sam are in perfect health, although you do have a mild sunburn on your shoulder."

Mary glanced bemusedly at said shoulder, the skin of which was covered up by her t-shirt.

"Oh, yeah. We took Dean to the park yesterday and I missed a spot with the sunscreen. It's not too bad though. Besides, it's not like I'm going to burn to death."

Castiel could not suppress a small flinch at that, but Mary did not notice. Her gaze had shifted to the door of the daycare, and her alarmed expression told the angel that it was time to hide himself from view. Mary shot him a grateful look as he made himself invisible, before she turned to smile at her husband.

"How'd it go?" she asked him, nodding towards the building he had just exited.

John gave her a theatrical grimace and she patted his arm sympathetically.

"You didn't have to get out of the car, babe," John said with a frown as he seemed to realize that she was standing next to him.

"I'm not on bed rest, John," Mary said with a roll of her eyes, though her smile was indulgent. "Standing up for a few minutes isn't going to hurt me or the baby, and I wanted some fresh air."

"I know, sorry," said John, taking his wife's hand and squeezing it. "But I'm not gonna stop worrying about you."

"I wouldn't want you to," Mary told him, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Castiel felt the need to look away from the private moment, but it was not long until he heard the couple getting into the impala. He watched as they drove away, Mary waving surreptitiously in his general direction as they passed. The angel smiled after them for a moment before directing his gaze toward the building that housed his friend. He was not rested enough to move on again quite yet, so he decided to get a glimpse of what Dean had been like when he was this young.

Maintaining his invisibility, Castiel strode into the daycare. He was immediately accosted by the shrieks of children, but none of the voices were familiar. It only took him a moment to locate Dean, sitting by himself in the far corner of the room. Getting to him was another matter entirely. The daycare consisted of a single large room, with a desk off to the side of the door and the rest of the space open. It seemed that every square foot of colorful carpeting that was not taken up by a squirming toddler was littered with toys.

After stepping on two different toy cars and almost running over a little girl playing tag, the angel decided to just fly to Dean's side. The boy was focused intently on the rows of green plastic figurines that he had lined up in front of him. A closer inspection revealed them to be tiny models of soldiers.

Curious, Castiel sat cross-legged beside his friend, watching as Dean acted the general for his troops, organizing them into battalions that he then pitted against each other. Though he was only four, he already showed promise as a strategist.

As the minutes ticked by and turned slowly to hours, Dean remained in his corner, only moving when snacks were handed out, and even then quickly retreating back to his miniature army. The solitude was by choice; several of the children had tried to draw Dean into their games, only to be turned away. Apparently even at this age, Dean had guarded his heart carefully, opening it very slowly to people who were not in his family.

It made Castiel sad that Dean had been so lonely, even when he was living his supposedly normal life. The boy did not seem to mind though. He was utterly absorbed in his game, his face wrinkled up in concentration as the imaginary battle unfolded before him.

ooooooooooooo

Two and a half hours after he had left, John Winchester walked through the door. Dean was up and running before the man had even made it all the way into the building, and he launched himself into his father's arms the moment he was close enough. John chuckled, giving his son a hug and rubbing his back comfortingly before setting him down and leading him outside, waving to one of the staff to make sure that she noticed them leaving.

Castiel watched them go with a smile, but made no move to follow them. It was time for him to move on. Before he took off though, he gathered up all of the toy soldiers with which Dean had been playing. Each of them had the initials DW written on the base in faded black marker. Castiel deposited them carefully in the plastic bag that he had seen John carrying earlier, before making the quick flight out to the impala.

John was buckling Dean into the backseat while Mary told him about the appointment, and how much his little brother had grown inside her. Castiel did not want to interrupt the family moment, so he just reached through the open window to set the bag of toys on the seat next to Mary. She glanced down in surprise when the bag appeared next to her, but then she smiled warmly.

"You know why you and your little brother are so lucky, baby?" she asked her son, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. Dean shook his head. "You two have the best guardian angel there is."

* * *

**_A/N: _**_I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into the past. It's something that I wrote a while ago, but never managed to fit into the story itself. From now on, each chapter of this story will be written for a prompt that you guys submit. Leave a review with your prompt, and I will write them in the order in which I receive them. There will be a few basic rules: one prompt per person, please. You can leave multiple reviews, but I will only fill the first prompt that you submitted, unless I run out. Your prompt can be from any point in the timeline from 1978 to 2005, but keep in mind that there are some years that I have to avoid, based on the plot of Lost in Time. Your prompt can be as specific or vague as you want, and can be gen or romantic, but I will not write smut, simply because I can't. I will do my best to update this fairly regularly, but I am also working on the sequel to Lost in Time, as well as a deancas big bang, so I will be pretty busy._


	2. A Matter of Magic

_**A/N:** Welcome to the next installment of Moments in Time! Today's prompt is from Alexia Blackbriar. The complete prompt will be at the end, so as to avoid spoilers. Enjoy!_

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**A Matter of Magic**

This was by far Castiel's least favorite case yet. He had experienced some unpleasant ones in the two years that he had spent hunting with Dean, but getting separated from his partner and then captured for ritual sacrifice by a coven of angry witches was definitely a new low.

He watched warily as the leader of the witches strode to the stone altar to which he was chained. He did not like the look of the curved dagger that she held, and he liked her sadistic smile even less.

He could not hold back his shouts of pain as she carved sigils of some kind into his bare chest. The blade must have been enchanted, because each cut hurt ten times worse than it should have, and the wounds stayed open, even with the angel's remarkable healing capacity.

He was gasping for breath by the time the witch finished slicing, but he still managed to fix her with a furious glare.

"You'll regret this," he told her, but she just smiled.

The rest of the coven began to circle the altar, and chanting filled the air. Fear curled in Castiel's stomach as he realized that no rescue was coming; not in time anyway. Bloodstained blade in hand, the lead witch grasped Castiel by the hair, yanking his head back and exposing his neck. As he felt the wicked sharpness of the blade sink into the soft skin of his throat, sending blood trickling onto the thirsty stone, the angel just hoped that Dean would not become the coven's second target.

**24 hours earlier…**

"I think we may be dealing with a witch," Castiel said, looking up from his computer as Dean entered their most recent motel room.

"Oh, don't tell me that," the hunter groaned, setting down the bag of food he was carrying and bending over to give Castiel a quick kiss. "I hate witches."

He pulled two beers from the minifridge and set them on the table, before sitting down and digging into his burger. After a few bites he looked pointedly at the angel.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well, what?"

"What did you find, Cas?"

"But you told me not to tell you."

Dean shook his head with a long-suffering sigh, and Castiel had to hide his smile. After all of the time that he had spent with the hunter, he had gotten better at determining when Dean was being literal and when he was not. He still enjoyed being difficult sometimes though, because it never failed to provoke an amusing reaction.

"Just tell me about the damn witches, Cas," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

Castiel really did smile at that, but he complied. He and Dean had come to town because one man had choked to death on his own tongue and another had bled out after his eyes exploded. Dean had spent the day talking to the families of the dead men, while Castiel researched from their room.

"You told me that they both went to the same gym," Castiel began. "So I called the manager and asked if they ever spent time together there."

"I'm assuming they did?" Dean asked between bites.

"They were in the same yoga class," Castiel answered.

"Yoga?" Dean repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing at all," Dean said, shaking his head. "So, you were saying?"

"The manager also told me that both men were kicked out of the group for harassing women."

"Classy," Dean muttered, lip curled in distaste. "So you checked out the girls they were hitting on?"

"Yes, and it was just one girl," Castiel told him, pulling up the incident reports on his computer. "Amanda Crighton. I looked into her extensively, and she shows most of the warning signs for witchcraft. I suggest we go talk to her in the morning."

"That's it?" Dean asked. "That's all you're gonna give me? 'She shows warning signs for witchcraft'?"

Castiel sighed impatiently.

"I may not be as experienced a hunter as you are, but I do have extensive knowledge of supernatural beings," he told his partner sternly. "I thought you were learning to trust me with this kind of thing."

It was Dean's turn to sigh, and he backpedaled.

"I do trust you, Cas," he placated. "You know that. I just like to know what kind of situation I'm getting myself into before I actually get into it."

He gave the angel the smile that he knew full well Castiel was powerless against.

"Fine," Castiel said, rolling his eyes. He then proceeded to go through every single detail he had learned about Amanda Crighton. He made it as boring as possible, and smiled triumphantly when Dean finally fell asleep at the table.

Closing his laptop, Castiel stood and went to his partner's side. He scooped Dean up and carried him to the bed that they shared, tucking him gently beneath the covers. He'd had to do this multiple times since they started hunting together, but he never got tired of it. He pressed a kiss to Dean's temple, his heart warming when the man smiled in his sleep.

ooooooooooooo

The next day found both of them dressed in their FBI attire and standing on Amanda Crighton's porch.

"You sure about this spell of yours?" Dean checked.

"Yes," Castiel confirmed impatiently for the third time.

"Then would you like to do the honors?" his partner invited, gesturing at the doorbell.

Castiel grinned. He never got tired of pressing the doorbell button, and Dean knew it. The hunter may not have understood his fascination, but he was always happy to indulge it.

The angel gleefully pressed the button and they waited. It only took a few moments for a young woman to open the door, staring warily at the two men on her porch.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I sure hope so," Dean told her with one of his winning smiles. "Are you Amanda Crighton?"

When she nodded, the hunters showed her their badges. As she examined them more carefully than most people, Castiel studied her. On the outside she looked ordinary, but when he concentrated, the angel could see the aura of dark power that hung around her. He glanced at Dean and gave him a subtle nod. His partner glanced at the suburban neighborhood around them and then inclined his head towards the house. He wanted to take care of this inside.

"We just have some routine questions for you," Castiel told Amanda. After a few disastrous attempts, he had gotten better at pretending to be an FBI agent without drawing suspicion. "If we could come inside?"

Amanda finally looked up from their badges and nodded slowly. She stepped back to allow them into her small foyer.

"What's this regarding?" she asked, polite but wary.

"My partner and I are investigating the deaths of Marcus Winston and Damien Harding," Dean told her as Castiel shut the front door behind them. "We were hoping you might be able to offer us some insight."

Amanda tensed, but when she spoke, her voice was remarkably calm.

"I don't know what you think I can tell you that isn't in any official report," she said. "I haven't seen either of them since the harassment incident, and that was really just more of a misunderstanding."

"Right. So the fact that they both died from witchcraft and you just happen to be witch means absolutely nothing?" Dean asked with a grim smile.

Panic flickered across the woman's face as she stared at the two hunters.

"You're not FBI agents," she whispered.

"No," Castiel told her, stepping forwards and extending a hand towards her. "This will be less painful for you if you hold still."

Before his palm could make contact with her forehead, she jerked back and flung some kind of powder from one of her pockets at him. It made the angel sneeze, but he waved away the cloud of dust so that he and Dean could pursue Amanda as she fled.

"You couldn't have waited to try that until _after_ we got her under control?" Dean grunted as they ran.

Castiel did not bother replying. They reached the kitchen, where Amanda was leaning over a bowl, hastily tossing in different ingredients that were spread on the counter. She must have been working on a spell when they had arrived. Amanda looked up as they entered, and her eyes widened when she saw the angel.

"How are you still standing?" she demanded.

"Believe me, that's not his only trick," Dean said, gun drawn and pointed at her. "So you might want to do as he says."

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, before Amanda dropped the herbs that she had been holding and raised her hands in surrender. Castiel stepped forward again. His own gun was still secure in its holster at his waist. Countless afternoons with Dean at the gun range meant that he knew how to use it with deadly accuracy, but he disliked using the weapon.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Castiel told Amanda, sensing her fear. "I'm just going to make sure that you can't hurt anyone else."

He pressed his palm to her forehead and closed his eyes in concentration. This was a spell he knew how to perform in theory, but had never actually used. A few words in Enochian and a surge of power later though, he knew that he had been successful. Amanda crumpled to the ground unconscious, but Castiel could sense that she was still alive and healthy.

"Did it work?" Dean asked uncertainly, staring at the woman on the floor.

"She's powerless," Castiel confirmed. "She'll never be able to work magic again."

"Well, that's something, at least," said Dean. "But she did kill two people. Are we really just gonna let her get off this easily?"

"Trust me, Dean," Castiel told his partner, his voice grim. "Losing her power is punishment enough."

Dean sighed, seeming to understand the meaning behind the comment.

"You're not powerless, Cas," he said firmly. "Far from it."

"You don't understand, Dean," Castiel told him with a sad smile. "You've never seen me whole. You cannot grasp the magnitude of what I've lost."

"No, I guess I can't," Dean admitted thoughtfully. Then his expression brightened and he gave the angel a light punch on the arm. "But you'll always be a superhero to me."

Castiel rolled his eyes, but Dean's words succeeded in cheering him up.

"Let's just go," he said. "I don't think Amanda will be pleasant to be around when she wakes up."

"Good point."

ooooooooooooo

It was one of the fastest cases they had ever worked. It was still early by the time they were packed up and ready to leave town, so they decided to stop at a diner for an early lunch before they took to the road again.

"I'm telling you, man, I don't know how we ever hunted without you," Dean said to the angel over a plate of ribs.

"Slowly, I imagine," Castiel smirked.

Dean threw a bone at him.

They managed to finish their meal without starting a full-scale food fight. Dean went to use the bathroom before they left, so Castiel stayed at the table to take care of the check. He smiled up at the waitress as she walked toward him, and she smiled back, before placing the check on the table. Castiel looked down to fish the wallet that Dean had given him out of his pocket. He froze when a hand slipped over his mouth and something jabbed him in the neck.

"Scream, angel, and your lover will die a torturous death," the waitress hissed in his ear.

Silent, Castiel moved nothing but his eyes as he stared frantically around the diner. There were only three other people inside, and they had all stood to watch the angel's plight, arms crossed impassively over their chests. Now that he was looking, Castiel could see the faint aura of witchcraft lingering around all of them.

He cursed himself for being so foolish. He knew that witches often belonged to covens, and he should have suspected that Amanda had friends. He should never have let his guard down. Now they had figured out what he was, and their plans for him could not be good.

Whatever the waitress had injected him with must have had magical properties, because it was stealing the angel's consciousness faster than any human drug could have. Panic welled up within Castiel as he felt himself slipping away, but there was nothing that he could do to fight the encroaching darkness.

ooooooooooooo

The angel awoke abruptly, eyes snapping open and limbs flailing instinctively. His breathing began to speed up when he realized that he was chained down, arms stretched out on either side of him. His head was free though, and he quickly turned it to the side, taking in his surroundings.

He must have been unconscious for quite some time, because night had fallen and only the light of a full moon illuminated the scene. He was lying on a low stone altar in the middle of a small clearing in the woods, and he noted with dismay that he had been stripped of all but his pants. He could see six witches standing in a cluster at the edge of the clearing. They had been talking amongst themselves, but when they noticed that he was awake, they turned to face him.

"So the mighty angel awakes at last," one of them said scornfully, stepping forward. The way the other witches looked at her told Castiel that she was their leader. "You took something from one of our own, seraph."

She looked behind her, and Castiel saw Amanda Crighton step out of the shadows. Her face was pale and drawn; clearly losing her powers had not agreed with her. One of the other witches wrapped an arm around her, glowering at Castiel.

"She's a murderer," the angel said without remorse.

"Those men were pigs!" spat the woman holding Amanda. "They deserved what they got!"

"At ease, Celia," the leader told her. "Those men paid for their crimes against Amanda, and so will this angel."

The witch turned back to Castiel and smiled, though there was no warmth in the expression.

"That was a very nasty spell you used on my friend," she said, stalking forward until she was standing right beside the altar, looming over the angel. "Very effective though. Did you know that it can be reversed?"

"Impossible," Castiel told her through clenched teeth.

"Oh, not at all. In fact, all we need is the original caster of the spell and a full moon. We have both." The witch smirked, her gaze running up and down Castiel's body. "Capturing the angel was supposed to be the hard part. I must say, you really don't live up to the legends of your species."

"Sorry to disappoint," Castiel growled.

He yanked at his bonds again, but the chains held fast. The witches must have found some way to stifle his power. He could not even feel his link with Dean, and he hated the emptiness that it left in his chest.

He could smell a faint but familiar scent on the stone beneath him. He wondered how many creatures had bled out on this altar, wondered if any of them had been human. He knew that he would be the first angel though.

"I'm assuming this ritual involves a blood sacrifice?" he inquired, and the witches gave him feral smiles.

"When we bathe in your lifeblood, angel, we will become the strongest coven in the country," the leader answered him. "Your power will become ours, and we will be unstoppable."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Castiel demanded. "Do you simply enjoy toying with your prey?"

"Well, yes," she admitted carelessly. She stroked a finger slowly over Castiel's chest, smiling when he shuddered. "But we also need to perform the ritual at midnight."

She removed her hand abruptly and walked back to the edge of the clearing to rejoin her coven.

"Enjoy your last thirty minutes of life, angel," she called over her shoulder.

ooooooooooooo

The promised half hour later, Castiel closed his eyes as the lead witch began to drag her knife across his throat. Before she could make anything but a small incision though, gunshots rang out through the clearing. The witch staggered back, staring down in shock at the three holes that had appeared in her chest, blossoming with blood.

She crumpled to the ground, and before the other women could do more than cry out, there was the sound of glass shattering, and one of the witches was enveloped in a cloud of smoke that quickly dissolved her into nothingness. The rest of the coven scattered, making a break for the shelter of the surrounding woods.

Dean appeared, eyes ablaze with rage as he strode out of the forest, flinging flaming bottles at the retreating witches with deadly accuracy. As each improvised bomb broke over a witch's back, she was instantly dissolved by a cloud of smoke. Only Amanda Crighton took a hit and kept running, whatever spell Dean was using not working on her because she was no longer a witch.

Dean might have pursued her as she vanished into the trees, but he took one look at Castiel and rushed to the angel's side. His expression shifted from furious to panicked and he quickly shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his flannel shirt, pressing it to the gash on Castiel's throat. The witch had not lifted the knife when she had been shot, and she had left a long cut. Though his windpipe and jugular remained intact, Castiel was still bleeding heavily.

"Stay with me, Cas," Dean urged as the angel felt the combined blood loss take its toll.

"Chains," Castiel gasped, fading fast.

Understanding what he was asking, Dean pulled a lock pick from his pocket and began to work on the cuffs around Castiel's wrists. Once his hands were free, the angel reached up to put pressure on his neck wound, helping to slow the bleeding while Dean worked on the chains around his ankles.

Once the last cuff fell away, Castiel pulled the shirt away from his throat and touched his fingers to the wound. As he had suspected, the chains had been enchanted, and now that he was free of them, his healing powers worked. The bleeding stopped, both from his throat and the sigils on his chest, and the wounds began to scab over. He did not have the energy to heal himself completely, but it was enough.

Dean hurried back to his side and took the angel's face gently in his hands. Castiel gave him a weary smile, and felt his partner's relief through their newly restored link.

"Hey, take it easy," Dean protested as Castiel tried to sit up. "Just lie still for a minute."

"Another minute is too long to spend on this wretched altar," Castiel told him, and Dean winced.

"At least let me help you," the hunter said.

He looped his arm around Castiel's shoulders and helped him sit up and swing his legs over the side of the altar. Standing proved to be more difficult, and the angel had to lean heavily on his partner as the world spun around him.

"What did you do to them?" Castiel asked as he waited for his balance to return, staring down at the patch of bloodstained grass that marked where the body of the lead witch had fallen before getting vaporized by one of Dean's bottle bombs.

"When I realized what had happened to you, I called Bobby," Dean explained. "He gave me a spell for killing witches."

"It appears to be an effective one," Castiel said mildly.

"Yeah, I guess so," Dean said, staring down at the same spot with an absent expression.

His forehead was creased into a frown that told Castiel that something was bothering him. The angel did not have to wait long to find out what it was.

"I'm so sorry, Cas," Dean said, his troubled green eyes meeting Castiel's. "I should have gotten to you sooner."

"I'm sure you came as fast as you could."

"Of course I did, but…you could've _died_, Cas," Dean said, looking haunted as he glanced down at the angry red line marring the angel's throat. "I could've lost you because I was too slow."

"But you didn't," Castiel told him, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to his lips. "I'm going to be fine."

"I got lost in the woods," Dean admitted, still punishing himself. "I did a tracking spell to figure out where you were, but then all the trees looked the same, and I got turned around. I only found you because I heard you screaming, and I thought…I thought."

Castiel sighed as he understood. He kissed Dean again, more slowly this time until the hunter was satisfied that his angel was all right.

"I'm sorry," Dean said again once they had pulled away from each other.

"Don't be," Castiel told him, shaking his head. "I should have known earlier that there were more of them. And you managed to take out the entire coven by yourself."

Dean smiled slightly at that. He glanced around the empty clearing.

"Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?" he said, sounding rather proud of himself. "Not bad, huh?"

Castiel returned the smile, but could not suppress the shiver that rippled through him as a cold breeze brushed his bare skin. Dean looked contrite, and he released his hold on the angel briefly as he bent down to retrieve something from the ground. The something turned out to be a pile of Castiel's clothes, and the angel gratefully accepted Dean's help in slipping on his shirt, jacket, and trench coat, leaving everything open in the front so as not to aggravate his wounds.

"Now, how about we get the hell out of here, huh?" Dean invited, returning to his place of support at Castiel's side.

"It would be my genuine pleasure," the angel told him.

The two of them walked slowly through the woods until they emerged onto an empty road, where Castiel saw the impala parked on the gravel shoulder. The angel sighed in contentment when he sank into the passenger seat.

"Dean?" Castiel said as his partner started the engine.

"Yeah?"

"I think I hate witches too."

Dean just laughed as they pulled out onto the open road.

* * *

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading! I hope you guys liked this one as much as I did. The complete prompt was this: "I'd really like to see Cas helping the Winchesters with some witches. Maybe Cas becomes part of their ritual or something? Something where instead of Cas saving the Winchesters, they have to actually save him." Reviews are love, and requests are still open._


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